


Ambrosia Slip

by sepherim_ml



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:24:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepherim_ml/pseuds/sepherim_ml
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is willing to do everything to keep Sam safe, even sell his own soul. Apuleio's "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cupid_and_Psyche">Cupid and Psyche</a>" retelling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a retelling of 'Cupid and Psyche', from Apuleio's "Metamorphosis".  
> Written for the challenge dc_everafter on LJ. Thanks to runriggers for the beta-ing.

**THEN**   
  
The day Sammael was born was a sad day for his entire family.  
  
Mary cried when the midwife put the newborn in her arms, she cried and asked for redemption to the skies and to any god willing to listen her prayers. Nobody helped her, like always.  
  
John refused to look at the tiny baby, deeply ashamed of the high price his family had to pay for his own life. He listened as his Mary gave birth to Sammael, but he didn’t feel the rush of emotion he felt when Dean was born. He would have preferred to go hunting monsters rather than being outside his home, knowing what was happening inside. He didn't fear for his love, his Mary, sure that both her companion and his son will be okay: no curse could carry on with no human to taint.  
  
The only one who was eager to see little Sammael was Dean, four years old, Sammael's big brother.  
  
Later, when his mother slept in exhaustion and the midwife left the house, Dean sneaked in the nursery. Little Sammy was tiny and pink, he looked a lot like Jo, but he was more puffy than her, with less hair. Dean was a little disappointed when he realized that Sammy was too little to play with him. He kept looking at him, though, feeling the strong instinct to protect that pink little child from every danger. He was the big brother now, he had to take that work very seriously.  
  
"What are you doing here, Dean?"  
  
Dean startled, surprised, and looked at his dad with a trembling lip. "I just wanted to see Sammy..."  
  
John's scowl softened immediately. He picked up his firstborn, but the little guy leaned out from his arms, determined to see his baby brother.  
  
He pointed a finger at him. "He's tiny."  
  
John smiled. "He will get big."  
  
Dean seemed skeptical. "When?"  
  
"Little by little, day by day, like you did, Dean."  
  
"So he can play with me?"  
  
"He will," John moved to the exit of the room. Dean kept looking Sammy, chin raised fiercely, and he put his small hands over his father's shoulders.  
  
"I protect Sammy, daddy. I take care of him."  
  
John stopped his steps and he ran a hand through Dean's hair, hugged him tightly. He saw in Dean's eyes the same stubbornness and desire to protect that burned John months ago, when he tried everything to keep Mary safe, the same stubbornness of Mary, when she did the most unpredictable thing for keeping John out of danger.  
  
Dean smiled happily, thinking that his father was pleased with his promise.  
  
Instead, John looked at the skies, and, for the first time of all his life, he prayed the gods to have the strength to protect his family.  
  
  
  
  
  
**NOW**   
  
The great hunt is approaching and Dean couldn't wait to have the chance to prove himself and be able to kill the monster that has besieged his town.  
From many parts of the country, hunters have gathered in town to participate in the hunt, ready to fight to the death to conquer eternal glory and the most valuable prize of all; the hand of Lisa of the Breaden, daughter of the lord of the land.  
  
Actually, Dean is more interested in killing the beast than being bonded with Lisa, but his whole family would like him to take a spouse, and Lisa is the best option he can get. It doesn’t hurt that Lisa is a fair maiden, beautiful but with fire in her heart, passionate just what Dean loves in a woman.  
  
Almost thirty years ago, a similar hunt was held nearby and his father won the hand of the beautiful Mary. Dean is no romantic guy, but his mother is, and she can’t wait to see her firstborn to set up home.  
  
Mary, the sweet and thoughtful mother Dean knew, becomes clingy and overprotective, always trying to have both of her sons with her, rather than anywhere else. Many years has passed since his brother's birth and something has changed since that time. His father, a hunter by heart, who would sometimes give gruff hugs to Dean, became more withdrawn and focused on his hunts and travels.  
  
Dean could understand that this change in attitude started with Sam’s birth, but it doesn’t really explain why, in looking at her second son, Mary always seems so full of pain and regret. Maybe she is too anxious for him, due to the fact that Sam doesn’t seem inclined to continue with the family tradition and become a fighter against the infernal creatures.  
  
For most of his life, Dean has witnessed what demons and monsters have done to humans: kidnappings, killings, tortures, mysterious disappearings… the world of Hade seems to have grown very attached to Dean’s town, and, just like his father, Dean is one of the best hunters in town, every time ready to jump into the fight.  
  
Now at twenty five, Dean is looking forward to this hunt; this one special because it focused solely on killing one horrible beast that had slaughtered numerous hunters over the last few weeks. Nobody had seen the creature - nobody still alive, that is.  
  
“Be careful, Dean,” Sam gives him the bow. Even if his baby brother is just in his twenties, he already is taller than Dean and, with his broad shoulders and tanned skin he looks exactly like their father, even if they are completely different by heart and behavior. On the other hand, Dean looks more like their mum, with his sensitive and smooth skin, his green eyes and his light brown hair.  
  
“Am I not always?” Dean jokes. Sam glares at him.  
  
“Seriously, Dean, this is not a simple hunt. You don’t even know the that monster looks like. It can be anything, twice as dangerous as any other creature you have ever encountered. You are not invincible, just be careful.”  
  
“Isn’t that mum’s line?” Dean teases him with no heat in his voice. “Relax, Sammy, everything is going to be okay.”  
  
“I’m just saying...”  
  
“Why don’t you go court the lovely Jessica and stop being such pain in the ass?”  
  
Sam blushes a little. “For the hundredth time, there is nothing going on between us. We’re just friends.”  
  
“Oh yes, whatever. You’re terrible with women, Sammy.”  
  
Sam glares at him, but Dean ignores him as he hears the toot from a distance. All hunters are called for the gathering. Perfect, Dean is ready, he waves at Sammy and approaches the forest.  
  
  
*  
  
  
Dean knows the forest like the back of his hand: his dad trained him there, along with Bobby and Rufus from the gymnasium, and Dean did countless patrols controlling the borders of the town against enemies. He knows how to move, where to go, where the creeks and where most of the hidings and coves are.  
  
Dean is too impulsive to be a good strategist, but Dean is a good tracker, able to find and follow any trails, and that ability leads him near the cliff, just after the last spur of trees, and he sees it.  
  
It is a reptile, like a snake but with four legs, with yellow eyes and a cocky smirk, big like a hydra, but with just one head. As soon as it spots Dean, it inclines its neck, ready to attack him and eat him.  
  
Dean moves very slowly, bringing his hand over his shoulder, stretching his fingers to reach one of the arrows. Suddenly, the snake attacks, but Dean is faster, and dodges the poisonous head, throwing himself to the left. That distraction gives him the time to reach for an arrow and shoot at the snake, hitting him on the leg. The snake let out a pained hiss, and it turns towards him, furious.  
  
“Dean, Dean, Dean,” the snake hisses. Dean freezes. “How wonderful to meet you in person…”  
  
“How do you know my name?”  
  
“We all know about your family and the deal that your mother made!”  
  
“What the hell are you talking about?”  
  
“So, you don’t know…” The snake barks a poisonous laugh. “Oh, poor, poor Dean! Dean, completely in the dark about the mess your mommy made!”  
  
It moves towards him, but Dean points the bow, aiming to the face, ready to shoot his arrow and, with that small distance, there is no doubt he is not going to miss it. The creature perceives the danger, and immediately stops, even if his eyes still blink in amusement.  
  
“Do you wanna hear a funny story, human? I’m Meg, by the way,” Meg smiles, feral and terrible. She stands on two feet and shakes her head: a cascade of long, brown hair down on her shoulders, her skin glows and becomes pink and smooth, her yellow eyes changes and her pupils become black as the deepest darkness. A demon.  
  
Dean gasps, still with the bow raised. Meg makes some steps as if to approach him, naked and disturbingly beautiful, dangerous and snaky as she was as a snake.  
  
“Easy, girl, I don’t put out on first dates,” Dean jokes.  
  
Meg rolls her eyes to the skies and put a hand on her hip. “Such a cocky grin you got, Dean, you are so brave and proud and fearless. You’re the poster of a good, little hunter. But you don’t know what your dearest mother did, almost twenty years ago? That’s really, really funny, Dean.”  
  
Dean grits his teeth. “Just tell me, or I’ll kill you where you stand.”  
  
“Whatever. You’re no fun,” Meg sits on the nearest rock. “Your mommy sold your brother’s soul to the King of the Crossroads.”   
  
“You are lying,” Dean spits with rage. “My mother could never sell my brother.”  
  
“She did,” Meg nods with eagerness, satisfied the she had made Dean uncomfortable. “She did, because she loved John more than anything, but she didn’t know that she was already pregnant. A deal like that is something that goes over the prayers for redemption. She sold his second born and, at the age of twenty one, he has to die, or John will be dead forever, and the entire town destroyed by demons.” The bitch laughs in delight. “Didn't it every occur to you to wonder why this town was constantly besieged by demons? Why we are haunting this particular forest? We are reminders, Dean, _reminders_ .”  
  
Dean’s hand begins shaking and the bow trembles, Meg takes advantage of Dean’s breakdown as she launches herself towards Dean, snake and beast again. But Dean is faster, he shot his arrow, hoping that she doesn’t move away from the trajectory.  
  
A high-pitched scream echoes in the woods.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
He finds his mother in the kitchen, making dinner. Mary smiles immediately at him, with her eyes full of love and pride.  
  
“It is true?” Dean asks. He tries to regain some breath, but his chest hurts too much, both from the run and the terrible revelation. Meg is a demon, an infernal creature,  _she must have lied_ , he tries to convince himself in his mind. But the bittersweet taste of betrayal remains in his mouth, tingling on his tongue and in his palate. “Did you really sell Sam’s life to a demon in exchange for dad’s life?”  
  
The copper washbowl that Mary is holding in her hands falls and clatters on the floor. Her green eyes widens, shocked.  
  
Shame and confusion color her expression, she steps forward, arm stretched towards Dean, words of sorry already on her lips, but Dean steps back. His mother’s hurt look almost breaks his heart, so he tries to resist the impulse to turn his back and go out of the house. He doesn’t, but some fresh air sounds so tempting right now.  
  
“Why?” he manages to ask.  
  
Mary’s arms fall to her sides. “It was during a hunt, Dean. You were with your grandparents, and I was with your father, in the forest nearby. We were after a hellhound who slaughtered dozens of people, your father managed to trap it, but something went wrong and the hellhound bite him and almost killed him.”  
  
Dean leans on the wall, his hands clenched into fists.  
  
“When I reached them I killed the beast, but your father’s soul was fading away,” Mary continues with an aching throat. “A demon appeared, the master of the hellhound that I killed. He asked me what I was willing to do to not let John’s soul go to Hades. I said that I could give my soul, in exchange for his. But he didn’t want it, he asked for the life of our second born. I said yes.”  
  
“How could you-”  
  
“I-I couldn’t think at anything else, Dean,” she sobs. “I thought that if I didn’t remain pregnant... I thought that I could handle it.”  
  
Dean bites his bottom lip, trying to avoid a scathing comment about how can his mother look at Sam every day and not remembering that, for her fault, he is not gonna make it to twenty two years. Then, a thought strikes him: Sam is almost twenty one, there isn’t much time left. No room for doubts or recriminations.  
  
“When I found out that I was pregnant…” Mary takes a deep breath. “Your father made hunting his life, trying to become strong enough to kill the demon and set Sam free. We trained you, Dean, to protect Sam by any means necessary. So far, no demon has knocked on our door.”  
  
“But a legion of them haunts this town!” Dean screams. “Why didn’t you or father tell me before?”  
  
Mary shakes his head. “There is nothing you can do, Dean, not now. John tracked the demon, he went to the Oracle, and he said that the demon that was after Sam will get what he wants and no human weapon can kill him,” her eyes sparkle with tears. “There is nothing we can do.”  
  
“So what? We give up? It’s Sam, mum!”  
  
“I know, son. I know, but we have to face…”  
  
“No!” Dean yells. “I refuse to- Mum, he can’t have Sam!”  
  
Mary tightens her lips in a firm and thin line. “If the demon won’t take Sam, John will die, and the town destroyed by the demons he commands. There is no way back, Dean.”  
  
“It’s my job,” Dean says with tight voice. “It’s my job to protect Sam.”  
  
Mary weeps as she puts a hand over Dean’s cheek. “Not from this, Dean.”  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
He knows exactly what to do. He has to thank gods that his father still returned from the hunt in the nearby town with Bobby, because, otherwise, it would have been harder to sneak out from home.  
  
Sam could sleep through everything, so Dean had just to wait until his brother fell into Morpheus’ arms and then get up. Before going out the room, Dean looked at Sam’s peaceful expression: the baby fat was gone almost completely, and he was more a man than a kid. Sam is twenty - he wouldn't have any baby fat left, he is a man He still has those soft features, a small resemblance to their mum, like his too wide smile or the constant flush of his cheeks, but he is basically a man. Now, thank to Dean, Sam can be whatever he wants, and their parents can push him in becoming a hunter. They didn’t suggest it in the past, supporting Sam’s interests in philosophy, because they never thought that Sam could have a chance to have a future.  
  
Dean doesn’t know how to summon a demon, so he sought help from the temple. Rufus, one of his mentors from the past, helped him in gathering the things he needed.   
Finally he is standing on the highest cliff overlooking the sea, looking at the waves crashing against the rocks over and over. He picks up the dagger and cuts his forearm, whispering the words in the unknown language Rufus teaches him.  
  
“Well, well, looks like John’s little boy is after something from me…”  
  
Dean turns and he finds a man – or, someone who resembles to a man – a few steps away, looking at him with a knowing and amused grin.  
  
“You’re the douche bag who intended to steal my brother’s life?”  
  
The other one snorts in disbelief. “What harsh words, Dean. I’ll give you a word of advice: it is not wise to upset the people from whom you want to get something. Being treated harshly is not nice.”  
  
“You’re a demon.”  
  
“Error, Dean. I’m not a mere infernal creature, I’m the King of the Crossroads, I make deals with men, very fair ones,” he raises his hands. “You can call me Crowley.”  
  
“Well,  _Crowley_ , I’m here to-"  
  
“… Try and convince me to give Sam up?” Crowley acts bored, like he has a scene like that countless times. “Why does everyone who made a deal have to ask the same, boring question over and over? When we sign a deal, it is explained plain and simple, in whichever language is needed, what the terms of the contract are.”  
  
“Look-"  
  
“Listen, Dean,” Crowley disappears and appears near Dean. “I’ll make the same offer I always do: a deal. With you.”  
  
“Oh yeah, sure,” Dean grumbles. “Breaking a deal with another deal, oh yeah, I can see your point. Very smart.”  
  
“Well, you have nothing to offer, no leverage,” Crowley replies. “Except your soul.” Dean shivers. “No deal can be broken, but I can make an exception if the deal you can offer is better.”  
  
“So, you want my soul.”  
  
“I want your soul, yes,” the King of the Crossroads grins, satisfied. "Pray tell me, Dean. What are you willing to do to save your brother?"  
  
Dean raises his chin, fiercely, in the same way he did when he saw his little brother for the first time. "I'll do anything for him."  
  
Crowley steps back and he positions himself behind Dean's back. "Then jump, Dean. You give me your soul, Sam will be free. We're even."  
  
Dean doesn't have any doubt. He never looks back, he steps forward and then he jumps down from the cliff.


	2. Chapter 2

Death is strange.   
  
First of all, Dean has a terrible headache – which is strange, because in Hades it’s impossible to feel pain - then something is brushing against his cheek, soft and smooth. Selling his soul to an infernal creature should imply being dragged to hell, no turning back, and being damned there for the rest of eternity. If hell is so  _normal_ , then every story Dean was grown up with is total bullshit.   
  
There is a ruffled noise, then the brushing stops. Dean opens his eyes and stands up, a little dazed from the sudden movement.   
  
“What the…”   
  
He is in a room, a  _normal_  room, in a bed, with tons and tons of pillows fixed in precise order, there are tapestries for each wall, except for the one which has a big window, enclosed in a niche with curtains.   
  
A noise makes Dean get up on his feet and turn his head towards the source of the noise. His right hand goes automatically to the scabbard he has in the belt, but he doesn’t find any weapon to use.   
  
There is another man a few steps away, sitting stiffly on a bunch of pillows, quietly waiting for Dean to say something.   
  
“Who are you?” asks Dean suspiciously.   
  
“I’m Castiel.”   
  
“You’re another prisoner, here?”   
  
Castiel tilts his head by one side. “Yes, I am.”   
  
Dean relaxes. “Dude, welcome to the fancy club, we’re on the same boat.”   
  
Castiel frowns in confusion. “I don’t understand that reference.”   
  
“I mean that I am a prisoner too,” Dean sits back and he nods to Castiel to do the same. Castiel looks at him with a serious expression before getting up. He seems still unsure, though, as he approaches him with a slow stride, and that gives Dean time to watch him closely. He is a beautiful man, with pale skin and ruffled up hair, but, most of all, he has the most incredible pairs of blue eyes Dean ever seen in his entire life. “I’m Dean, by the way.”   
  
Castiel just nods in his direction.   
  
"How long have you been here?"   
  
Castiel looks at him strangely, then, as he closes his eyes his eyelashes flutter briefly. Dean finds that somewhat fascinating and a little bit disarming. "I lost count of the centuries."   
  
He seems so vulnerable that Dean couldn't avoid patting his back. Castiel opens his blue eyes and stares at him, half surprised, half relieved.   
  
"Will you stay here?"   
  
Dean cracks a smile. "Where else could I go?"   
  
Castiel looks away. "This place is a prison. It's called Purgatory. It's outside Time, nowhere in your world."   
  
"So, we're stuck here," Dean brings his legs up against his chest and sighs.   
  
"Dean?"   
  
"I was ready to die, you know? I was ready to jump from that damn cliff and kill myself, setting Sam free. I didn't consider how bad it would be staying here, missing my family and my home," Dean rubs his neck, a little embarrassed at his outburst. Castiel is looking at him, serious, waiting for him to continue. Dean feels uneasy under Castiel's scrutiny, because he was never been inclined to share his feelings, but, for once, he needs to do it. He is condemned to an eternity in a prison outside time and space, he is allowed to freak out a little with the man he will probably spend the eternity with.   
  
"You know what I mean."   
  
Castiel frowns; he breaks the eye contact and looks up. "I'm not like you, Dean. Our stories are different."   
  
Dean nods. "I think that with time, I'll get used to all of this."   
  
"You will," replies Castiel, and that sounds like a promise. "You will, Dean."   
  
  
*   
  
  
The time flows differently in Purgatory. On the contrary, scratch that, everything in that damn place is far from normal.   
  
In the first place, their prison is something sentient, which changed with every desire of the both of them: food, clothes, weapons for training, everything is been given by the prison itself. It is kind of scary, but very, very useful. Dean tries to ask for a way to go out, but that is the only thing the room doesn’t deliver. There is just him and Castiel, and they seem to get along pretty well, he tells Castiel stories of his hunts or funny anecdotes about Sammy, in exchange, Castiel has always a tale to share.   
  
Dean misses home terribly: his mum, the way she always welcomes him in the morning, his father, with his gruff attempts to show some affection under tons of layers of hard expressions. Most of all, Dean misses Sammy, his little brother, even when he drives him crazy with his sassy behavior. They grew up together, never apart for an entire day, and suddenly, Dean has only Castiel.   
  
He asks himself how his family had taken his departure. Castiel says that he doesn’t actually die, so his body is in Purgatory, not on Earth. But if he knows his family – and he knows, dammit, they were exactly alike – he bets that his dad and Sammy are trying to find out where he disappeared. Maybe, if he didn’t actually died and his family is looking for him (with all the tools Dean doesn’t have, like Bobby’s knowledge), Dean has a chance to get out of the Purgatory. And maybe take Castiel with him.   
  
Sometimes, when Dean looks at Castiel, he feels some bubbles in his chest, at ease and nervous at the same time to be with him. Sometimes, he finds comfort in knowing that they will be passing eternity together, even if in that prison.   
  
Then, one day, completely out of the blue, Dean gives up and kisses him. The moment before Dean was looking at Castiel while he was reading a scroll – his engrossed expression, his big blue eyes, the way his forehead frowns slightly – the moment after he is leaning out and kissing him. It is just a small peck on Castiel’s lips, and then Dean pulls away and looks at him, waiting.   
  
Castiel doesn’t let Dean wait longer, he blinks a few times, and then, with determination, he kisses him back.   
  
Dean smiles, as Castiel crawls on his lap, and keeps exploring him with his mouth and tongue.   
  
A hundred of kisses and two blowjobs later, they slip in to sleep, one in the arms of the other, smiling.   
  
  
  
*   
  
  
“If we’re not dead, we can escape,” Dean states one night, when they are relaxing in each other arms, laying over some kind of valley created from nothing. Purgatory loves changing scenarios and settings.   
  
Castiel shakes his head and the strange thing is that he doesn’t look displeased, he actually seems neutral, like Dean has just told the most normal thing in the world. “We can’t, Dean.”   
  
“We can,” Dean repeats with conviction, he sits up and grabs Castiel’s hand. “Don’t you want to go back home?”   
  
“I don’t have a home anymore. Purgatory is my home.”   
  
Dean wants to bite his tongue for the idiocy of his statement. Of course, Castiel thinks that Purgatory is his home: he hasn’t see his for centuries, his whole family is certainly dead by now. He has no one to come back to.   
  
“Then come to my home, I want to be with you.”   
  
Castiel lets out a sigh and sits back too. He looks Dean in the eyes, with a serious expression, and he instantly seems so different from the quiet but affectionate look Castiel always has. “You said that you want to be with me.”   
  
“I do.”   
  
“You can’t return to your home, Dean,” Castiel continues. “You have to stay here, it’s for the best.”   
  
“Why can being far from my family be the best option? Are you afraid that Crowley can discover our escape plan? The dude doesn't ever come here!”   
  
“You can’t have both.”   
  
“Both?”   
  
Castiel shakes his head and Dean gets upset, because he doesn’t understand why Castiel is saying cryptic things like that, why he doesn’t want to help Dean to get out of Purgatory.   
  
“You can’t have me  _and_  your family. You had to choose and you chose me. You can’t have your family.”   
  
“What the hell are you talking about? You don’t make any sense!”   
  
“You chose to jump from the cliff and sold your soul for your brother, you made a choice, and you can’t have your soul back.”   
  
Dean snorts, “As far as I know, Crowley doesn’t give a damn about me. He just pops me in Purgatory and he leaves me be.”   
  
“ _I_  give a damn about you.”   
  
Dean’s features immediately soften. “I know, but I’m not talking about you.”   
  
“If you are referring to Crowley as the person who has imprisoned you here, then, yes, you’re talking about me.”   
  
“Cas, I don’t un-”   
  
Dean stops abruptly, he freezes momentarily as he looks at Castiel’s back. As soon as he regains the strength to do something, he let Castiel’s hand go, ready to stand up and move away. Castiel doesn’t let him; he grabs his arm and forces him to remain seated beside him.    
  
“You-”   
  
Dean’s eyes widen in some kind of horrified expression, fixed on Castiel’s wings which have just appeared out of the blue. His wings are so black that Dean asks himself if they have absorbed light from the sun, they are divided in three sets each side, which give six in total. The feathers are long and appear soft, if the way the bottom feathers touch the pillows and bent against them is an indication.   
  
Dean has seen plenty of wings before – birds, some sphinxes that he hunted in the past –, but he has never seen something like this: even if black as an infernal Pit, Castiel’s wings are glorious, big and fluffy, magnificent, and Dean has to force himself not to reach for them. Wings. Dammit. Wings. Castiel is acting like everything is okay, and the fact that he has  _wings_  is normal, when Dean is one step away for officially freaking out.    
  
“Wings,” Dean chokes. He tries again to pull away from Castiel’s grip without success, as Castiel’s hands are squeezing his arm without permitting any room for escape. “What the fuck-”   
  
“It’s still me, I’m still Cas,” Castiel says with a sad expression. He looks miserable, as Dean scowls at him with anger. “Listen…”   
  
“Listen? Why do I have to listen when you-”   
  
Castiel waves his hand dismissively, pulling Dean nearer. "What do you remember after you jumped from the cliff?”   
  
“Why is it important right now?” Dean almost yells. “You have wings! Do you have a tail too? Some horns? Tentacles?”   
  
Castiel stares at him steadily, with the same, hurt expression, but with a hint of determination too. “I’m not a demon or an infernal spawn. I’m a demi-god, Dean, a creature called an angel.”   
  
“Oh, very nice name, by the way,” Dean clenches his jaw. “Is there a reason why you let me think that you are human like me?”   
  
“You aren’t very inclined to interact with non-human creatures…”   
  
“Damn straight I’m not!”   
  
“… so I didn’t reveal myself, in order to get to know you and become your friend.”   
  
“Or a tasty dinner.”   
  
Castiel snaps, angry. “Will you stop being driven all by your judgment? Can you give me at least the possibility to explain myself?”   
  
Dean wants to shout at Castiel to pack his explanations and shove them, but he couldn’t. He feels betrayed, dirty and wrong in being fooled by someone he trusted, someone he who has kissed and slept with, but, at the same time, Dean can’t just shut Castiel down. He is head over heels for him, dammit, and he can’t dismiss his feelings. So, he just remains silent, and Castiel takes it as an invitation.   
  
“When you jumped from the cliff, I reached for you, and I took you here, to Purgatory, to my home.”   
  
“Why did you do that?”   
  
“I was curious why a human has given up his soul for another human. You were the son of the woman who offered her soul to save her companion, and I wanted to know you.”   
  
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!”   
  
Castiel smiles a little. “But this is, indeed, the truth. I didn’t expect to fall in love with you, though,” he adds, brushing his thumb against Dean’s knuckles.   
  
Dean grits his teeth, clenching and unclenching his fists, processing what Castiel has just said. Then, he gasps and cries: “Wait! Crowley was the one who sealed the deal with my mum!”   
  
"You sold your soul to Crowley, but Crowley is just an intermediary. As he likes to say… he is merely a  _middleman_ .”   
  
“Middleman?”   
  
“You sold your soul to me, Dean. You’re mine, Crowley is just the messenger as he is under my orders.”   
  
“I don’t get that.”   
  
Castiel tries to place a finger against his forehead. “Let me show you.”   
  
Dean raises his hands. “Hey! Personal space, dude!”   
  
“You didn’t have that issue before,” Castiel points out, a little disappointed. He looks like his friend, but the wings which are moving behind him, flexing and stretching, reminding Dean that Castiel is not human.   
  
“Well, after your little winged outburst, I think I can set a personal space between us!”   
  
Castiel gets nearer, him, and his stupid wings, and Dean gasps. He wants to have a weapon of some kind to defend himself from Castiel’s closeness.   
  
A second after, Dean has in his hands a copper vial delivered by Purgatory at his wish. He doesn’t hesitate and he shoves the content of the vial against Castiel, without asking what the liquid was.    
  
Castiel screams in pain, taken aback by Dean’s attack. He touches his arm, careful not to brush against the area where the drop of the liquid begins to frizzle and burn his skin and meat. His head snaps up, blue eyes full of betrayal and hurt, his wings bend, instinctively trying to protect his body against any other attack.   
  
“Holy oil,” Castiel hisses in pain.   
  
“I’m sorry,” Dean states with a steady voice, waving the vial – magically refilled - in his hands as a defense against any further sign of approach from Castiel. “But I’m a hunter through and through, and I have no intention of being held captive here.”   
  
“We’re out of the time, Dean. If you stay here, with me, you will not get old and you will never die. Consider it.”   
  
“You can take your timeless, deathless shit and shove it!” Dean takes a deep breath. “You said that I made a choice when I jumped from the cliff, and I haven’t chosen you, Cas, I chose my family at that time. If you ask me who I would pick between you and them, now that I am aware of  _what_  you are, I’m choosing them again.”   
  
Castiel looks down, then he points out at his wings. “If I wasn’t like this, you would have chosen me?”   
  
Dean forces himself to nod, because he just  _wants_  Castiel, whatever shape he is taking, but he can’t deal with that, not for all the pain Castiel caused to his family, his life and his heart.    
  
“Maybe. It doesn’t change the fact that you have lied to me.”   
  
“Angels can’t lie, Dean, we’ve just don’t say the truth,” Castiel replies.   
  
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but for humans that’s the same thing!”   
  
Castiel murmurs, “But I love you. All I did, I did it for you.”   
  
Dean says softly, with his heart beating like a mad drum in his chest. “Then do something else for me: let me free.”   
  
Castiel unfolds his wings, he flaps them, then, he reaches for Dean’s forehead with his fingers.    
  
Dean closes his eyes because the pained expression on Castiel’s face is too much to handle. When he opens his eyes again, he is on the cliff, in the middle of a storm, without Castiel by his side.


	3. Chapter 3

When he pounds at the door of his house, Dean finds a mother who looks ten years older that Dean last saw her, a brother who crushes him in a bear hug and hardly let him go, and his father disappeared.  
  
It turns out that time flows differently in Purgatory in a way in which every day there is equal to a week on Earth. So, Dean discovers that after his departure, his father went almost crazy, putting the blame on himself. He travelled a lot all over the country, looking for some answers and a way to get his son back. Mary admits that she tried to call the demon back, asking to take her in exchange of Dean.  
  
Sam becomes a hunter, he is more tall and broad than Dean remembers. He is taking lessons from Bobby, now, and Dean almost feels like crying when Sam admits that he has given up his studies, in order to become a hunter and find a way to get Dean back.  
  
His family tried everything for getting him back, and instead of being flattered, Dean feels wrong. He is in his home, now, with his mum and brother – and when the messenger arrives from John, Dean will have his father too -, but his heart hurts.  
  
He misses Castiel like crazy.  
  
The worst thing is that with Dean’s sacrifice, no demon has left the town. They haunt the woods, killing and slaughtering, and since Dean is back they have gotten worse.  
  
“I don’t understand,” says Sam one night, while they are patrolling the town. “Why they don’t go away? Do you think Castiel lied before?”  
  
Even his name makes Dean feel awful. “Probably. It is one of his lies.”  
  
“Maybe there’s another reason.”  
  
“He lied to me about his identity, about the deals and whatever! He probably lied to mum about that too!”  
  
“But Dean, it doesn’t make sense.”  
  
“Well, not everything has to sense.”  
  
“It should be.” Sam looks at him. “Dean…”  
  
“What?!”  
  
“Are you in love with him?”  
  
Dean hesitates, then he looks down and he kicks some rock. “It doesn’t matter.”  
  
“It does.”  
  
“Can you just leave it?”  
  
“He cares about you. He let you free, and I don’t know why, but this entire story stinks.”  
  
Dean doesn’t answer, but he thinks that Sam is right.  
  
  
*  
  
  
They have their answers the day John comes back home.  
  
He hadn't received the message Mary sent him, so he didn’t know about Dean. but he hugged him tightly for a very long moment, whispering something like  _“thank you, thank you, you’re here_. John didn’t come alone, though. He was with a blind priestess, Pamela, and they carried some terrible news.  
  
It looks like Dean’s town was built over a hellmouth, one of the accesses to Hades, so no wonder there were so many demons around. Meg lied to Dean, in the end, telling him that Mary’s deal has something to do with it.  
  
As Pamela explained, the hellmouth was there independently from whatever deal Mary made. The demons have just become bold as one of their lords became stronger and, as the town was built on a hellmouth, the lord of the crossroad path under discussion turns out to be…  _ta-daan_ , Crowley.  
  
Dean’s hands tingle for salt and burning him, erasing him from the face of the Earth. No wonder he volunteers himself to summon him on the cliff with Bobby’s spells. He had to work a little hard to let his family and Bobby stay away while he was doing that, but Pamela helped him. She seemed convinced that the only person who can obtain something was Dean.  
  
“Oh-oh, Dean-o, what a surprise,” Crowley slurs.  
  
Dean rolls down his sleeves, quickly covering the cut on his forearm. “I bet.”  
  
“No, seriously, I’m very surprised. Not that you’re here, of course, by the complete devastation you did of Castiel, I pretty much understand how it went between you two lovey-birds,” Dean flinches. “I’m just surprised that you, of all people, have summoned me. Very reckless, Dean-o.”  
  
“Devastation?”  
  
Crowley rolls his eyes. “This is the only part you heard? Yes, Dean, devastation. The mess you did to Castiel! Ha! I couldn’t have done this in an eon!”  
  
“I thought Castiel was your master…”  
  
“He is, actually. We did a deal, some eons ago: he would support me in taking down Hades, and in exchange, I would have helped him in his celestial quest and battle against his brother Raphael for the possession of Paradise in one of the celestial wars in the last eternity. I didn’t win, even if I took complete possession of all the crossroads, but he didn’t win either. Castiel was exiled, but since he was an angel, he couldn’t stay in Hell. He should have fallen to Earth and become human, but one of his other brothers, Gabriel, created a place for him, Purgatory.”  
  
“Cas called it a prison.”  
  
“Well, he can’t leave it. He is cast out from Paradise, he can’t walk on Earth, he can’t go to Hell." Crowley sneers. “Nobody can go past Purgatory’s borders, it’s a place outside everything, with his own rules. Castiel has a pretty powerful grace, though, and he is controlling every move I make from there. Now, with Castiel’s grace weakened, I can set up my own rules.”  
  
Dean feels a lump in his throat. That does make sense, now. Castiel is some kind of buffer and he kept Crowley on leash, preventing him to become too strong, and when Dean offered his soul. Castiel is nothing like a demon.  
  
Dean’s mind is blurred and unfocused: he couldn’t find a break in Crowley’s walls or in his speech, he manages to think about Castiel, his lover, so far away, with no possibility to see him again.  
  
“Castiel is technically my boss,” Crowley continues. “But he has nothing to do with the deals, although he possesses all the souls I take. So, when you offered me your soul, he took over the deal. He normally let all the souls go to me, but he must have seen something, and he claimed your soul. We have a twisted relationship, I know. What can I say? The guy is stronger than me. But not now.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Castiel loves you, and you left him. Now he is devastated and very weak, so weak that for the first time in centuries I can actually have close to hand the possibility to do whatever I want.”  
  
Dean grunts. “What do you intend to do?”  
  
“Well, first of all, I think I will destroy your town and kill everybody, then I can think about claiming a throne in Hades.”  
  
“I don’t think so.”  
  
Crowley and Dean turn to the voice who has just spoken. The first one quickly changes his expression into a bored one, like he was expecting him to actually show, while Dean smiles instantly, his whole body heated with the desire of launching himself to the arms of the stranger, seeing the one person he missed the most.  
  
Castiel is standing there, wings spread out, black as the night, but bright under the light of the stars. He stands there, still, as a marble statue, his eyes fixed on Dean, ignoring Crowley completely.  
  
“You’re here?” Dean croaks out. “How can you be here?”  
  
“Good question,” Crowley adds.  
  
Castiel looks at the skies fondly. “Gabriel’s gift. I can walk on Earth for the time of Dean’s life, if Dean accepts me back.”  
  
Crowley sighs heavily, looking back and forth between Castiel and Dean. “So I have to crawl back to my kingdom, then. No usurpation, that’s a pity.”  
  
Dean forces himself to avert his eyes from Castiel and turns back at the King of the Crossroads, arching an eyebrow. “Oh, Crowley, are you giving up so easily?”  
  
“Have you failed to see that an angel is in front of us? I may be ambitious, but I’m not suicidal.”  
  
“Our deal still stands, King of Crossroads,” Castiel adds, with a terrifying gaze. Crowley seems to bend under the threat of Castiel’s voice, and Dean feels a shiver running through his spine at that demonstration of power.  
  
“Same as always,” replies Crowley. “See you in your next life, Dean-o,” he snaps his fingers and disappears.  
  
“Dean?” Castiel asks, drawing Dean’s attention back. “I’m sorry for keeping things from you and for not telling you the truth.”  
  
Dean cracks a smile. “So, you admit you lied to me.”  
  
Castiel tilts his head, then he holds out a hand. “Yes. Could you please forgive me?”  
  
“I…”  
  
“If you accept me, I will stay by your side for the duration of your life and beyond. I have permission to walk on Earth, and follow you in your afterlife, when your time comes,” Castiel smiles. “I promise that I won’t lie to you again and I would do everything within my power to make you happy, even if I have to get rid of my wings. Would you accept me, Dean? Would you let me stay?”  
  
For the record, Dean thought about the pros and cons of a life with Castiel, even if he didn’t. He is happy to say to Sam that he actually  _tried_  to ponder the matter. He didn’t, because he couldn’t stop thinking how happy he was with Castiel just standing in front of him, with his hand stretched out.  
  
Dean ignores the hand and kisses him. When he pulls away, he brushes his hand over Castiel’s cheekbones with love, happy to have him there, with his stupid black wings. He doesn’t care, Castiel is Cas, and Dean is perfectly happy with it.  
  
“I thought I couldn’t see you again,” he finally says.  
  
“I tried to give up my wings,” Castiel confesses, pulling Dean in a hug. “But Gabriel wouldn't let me, he said that Paradise needs someone to balance the equilibrium between upstairs and Hell. If I give up my wings, I will give up my powers and become human, but they don’t want me powerless. So my brothers just give me permission to stay with you, with my love.”  
  
“I don’t care about your fluffy wings,” protests Dean. “Stay with me, in whatever shape, I will accept you.”  
  
Castiel kisses him deeply, with so much passion that Dean feels his knees weaken.   
  
“Don’t leave me again,” Castiel whispers, as he pulls away a little.  
  
“Never,” Dean promises, as he holds him close. “Never.”


End file.
